


Life After

by InTheWind



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheWind/pseuds/InTheWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jesse's heart attack, Leanne decides to live again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life After

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Tumblr user sheflieswiththestars: "HeadCanon: Leanne rides a Harley. It may be hers, it may be her husband’s. But she rides one."

“If I die today, my one wish would be that you live. Really live.”

That was his dying proclaimation. Lying on an operating table with his life in the hands of some fresh-faced resident, and _that_ was what he'd deemed important enough for what could have been his last words.

“I'm pretty sure that's their wish, too.”

Jesse was going to be okay. Leanne wasn't sure she would be, but for the first time in three years she was willing to entertain the notion that there was something for her beyond the cold, sterile hospital walls.

She walked through a self-storage facility around the corner from Angels Memorial, shielding her eyes as the early morning light bounced off rows of metal doors. She'd only been there once before, but she had no trouble finding the unit that she'd packed her old life into six months after the accident, when the constant reminders became too much to bear. Now she slowly raised the grate, squinting as sunlight filled the tiny concrete room.

She hesitated before walking in. Years' worth of memories flooded her at once—every object before her told a story. In each trinket she saw her children's smiles, felt her husband's embrace. And Jesse's voice still echoed in her head.

“ _Really live_.”

An old quilt lay draped in a misshapen pile at the center of the unit. Leanne pulled it at gently. Her fingers sank into each square—a baptismal gown here, a favorite t-shirt there—lovingly stitched together by her mother-in-law over what felt like a lifetime ago. Tears filled her eyes as she lifted the blanket away, revealing what she'd come for: her husband's old Harley, still gleaming like new. 

The three things Rick Rorish had loved most in this world were his wife, his kids, and his bike—and Leanne had often teased him that she wasn't at all sure that was the right order. None of her grisly ER horror stories could dampen the joy he felt on the open road with the wind in his hair and her arms around his waist; she'd even grudgingly learned to ride the thing herself after he'd begged her to, on the grounds that it would make her feel better about seeing him drive off on what she called a “two-wheeled death trap” every chance he got. It didn't make her worry any less, but she had to admit that she saw why Rick cherished his rides alone. Secretly, she'd taken the death trap out for a spin every once in a while.

After the accident the mere sight of that bike evoked a cruel irony; she'd spent all that time arguing with her husband over the dangers of motorcycles only to lose everyone she loved in their safe, dependable family car. She couldn't bring herself to sell Rick's prized possession; she couldn't bring herself to ride it, either, now that he no longer could. She settled for simply locking it away with the rest of her memories, close enough to be safe but far enough to be forgotten. She'd given Jesse the only other key. 

“You've been keeping house, Mama,” she said out loud to no one; indeed, there was a remarkable lack of dust for a room that had supposedly been shut tight for three years. Leanne laid the blanket down over some nearby mementos and ran her hand over the cool metal and the soft leather seat. She climbed onto the bike, steadying herself as she felt for the key in the ignition. It started up easily and for a moment she just sat there, feeling the engine rumbling beneath her, remembering the sound of Rick pulling out of the driveway and the way she'd wait anxiously until she heard him return. She remembered the smile on his face when he came, so relaxed and at peace with the world around him; she remembered feeling that way herself whenever she'd sneak off for a ride. That, she recalled, was living.

“You're alive,” Jesse had told her, and she was finally realizing how badly she'd needed the reminder.

For the first time in three years, Leanne went out for a ride.


End file.
